


Juke Box Hero

by BrokenWings0712



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - The French Mistake, One Shot, Saturday Night Special, Work Contains Fan(s) or Fandom(s), doppelgangers, mild swearing, season 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 06:12:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14909870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenWings0712/pseuds/BrokenWings0712
Summary: What if when Dean and Ketch went on the fieldtrip to the Apocalypse AU, they ended up in our world instead? In a hotel? At a convention?This drabble started out as an imagine on Twitter, and I just had to make it happen.





	Juke Box Hero

**Author's Note:**

> So, this takes place at SPNNash 2018 because it's literally the only con I've been to, and I have zero reference for others. Also, my husband and I found this cool little hallway, and--whatever. Enjoy!

This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

That portal was supposed to take him and Ketch to Apocalypse World so he could find Mom and Jack, not…wherever this was.

“This…doesn’t appear to be a post-apocalyptic universe,” Ketch said slowly.

“Yeah, no shit,” Dean retorted as he peeked out the door to the bathroom they’d landed in. The hall it opened into was deserted, but it was clean and held no signs of destruction. Plus, the electricity still worked, so he was banking on this place still being functional.

“We should go back and try again. Perhaps we can find a way to fine tune the spell so that it takes us to the right world?”

Dean closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. Ketch’s condescending tone was wearing on him, and it was all he could do not to whip around and deck the guy. A bright flash reflected on the tiles around the door, and Dean spun around in time to discern two things. One: Ketch was no longer behind him, and two: the portal was gone. He scrambled towards the stalls and threw the doors open with a bang, but nope. Ketch was gone, and Dean was stranded.

“Son of a BITCH!”

The jerk was also the one carrying their weapons bag, so it looked like Dean only had his pistol and an angel blade in his jacket to defend himself if things got bad. Definitely not good. Okay, he thought, dropping his hands from where they were fisted in his short hair. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. It’s gonna be okay. Sammy’s gonna open up another doorway and come get him. He was gonna be fine. Yeah. Yeah okay.

Yeah right.

The door behind him was pushed open, and a short, dark-haired chick poked her head in, a lanyard swinging gently from her neck. “Hey, you okay?”

Dean’s eyes went wide for a moment, but he recovered quickly and cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah. Um, just realized I forgot something at home is all. I’m fine.”

The woman’s eyes softened, and she offered him a small smile. “That sucks, but whatever it is, I’m sure we can help you find a replacement for the weekend…” She trailed off as her eyes fell to his clothing. “Did you change?”

Dean’s hands flew to the chest of his canvas jacket. “What?”

She nodded again to his clothes. “You weren’t wearing that earlier, and I know it’s none of my business or anything, but I was just curious. It looks good, though,” she added quickly.

“Oh, um, thanks.” They stared at each other for a few awkward moments before Dean thumbed over his shoulder towards the stalls. “If you don’t mind, I’m just gonna finish up.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at him. “You do know this is the women’s restroom, right?” she asked. “Again, it’s none of my business, but I didn’t think you identified as trans, so…”

Dean twirled a finger in the air around his head and slapped on his most charming smile. “Oh! This is the…? My bad! I must not have been paying attention. Sorry.” Holy hell, was she blushing?

She dropped her eyes and grinned. “It’s fine, just, you know, be more careful next time, huh? You’ll give a girl a heart attack if she walks in and finds you here.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Dean threw in a wink as he brushed by her and out into the hall. He quickly turned to the left and strode towards the set of double doors up ahead. He had to figure out where he was and what was going on so he could at least attempt to blend in. That woman seemed to know him, or at least another version of him, which was just perfect considering he needed to keep a low profile until he figured out a way to get home or Sam came and got him. Dean chanced a glance over his shoulder to see if the dark-haired woman was still back there, but thankfully she was gone, whether it was to the bathroom or in the other direction, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t waiting around to find out.

He pushed the door open and peeked out, craning his neck as far as he could without feeling too exposed. There wasn’t much to see, just a small set of stairs leading up to a larger, open area, but Dean could hear several voices and decided to venture on. He saw a few people milling about, some standing together in groups of two or three chatting while others sat cross-legged on the ground with their backs to the scattered pillars that reached all the way to the ceiling. No one was really paying attention to him, well, no one except that girl.

She was young, maybe twenty-five, with long, pink curls and wearing a black t-shirt and vans, but her eyes were huge, locked on him, and she was gaping while slapping the guy beside her with the back of her tanned hand. She kept hitting him harder until the dude actually flinched and dropped his phone to his side with a groan.

“What?!” Dude snapped.

Pinkie’s mouth curved into a huge grin, and she pointed at Dean. “Look,” she breathed.

His eyes followed her gaze until they settled on Dean, and then that dude was grinning, too. “Holy crap.”

Pinkie grabbed his hand and started tugging him towards Dean while waving erratically. “Hey!” she squealed. Apparently, the outburst had drawn the eyes of the other folks in the area, and they were all slowly having similar reactions and moving his direction.

Dean furrowed his brows and quickly looked around him before pointing to his chest. “Me?” he asked dumbly.

Pinkie’s head bobbed as her smile stretched impossibly wider. “Do you see another Jensen Ackles around? Yes, you! Hi!”

Wait. Jensen? Crap.

Dean threw a hand up to wave back at her and started backing down the steps. “I think I took a wrong turn somewhere,” he chuckled. “I should probably get back to…yeah. It was good seeing you.” She looked like she was going to say something else, but Dean dashed back through the doors and down the hall at a full on sprint. Not good, not good, not good! 

He ran by the bathroom he’d come out of, but it wasn’t exactly a great hiding place so he pressed on, looking for some other kind of option. Of course he’d end up back in that universe where he and Sam were actors. Of course he’d get recognized. Of course Chuck had some twisted sense of humor and was punishing him for that time he told him to cool it. That had to be it, it just had to be. There was a dark corridor up ahead that hopefully was low-key enough that Dean could use to catch his breath and—Dean ran right smack dab into a guy as he was coming out of said corridor, and the guy immediately fumbled for an apology when the two locked eyes.

Oh no. Oh shit, no, no, no, no.

Dean’s eyes grew huge, and he stumbled back a step while the other guy did the same. Jensen Ackles, Dean’s doppelganger, was standing a few feet away, face frozen in a mixture of shock and fear and confusion. Jensen started to reach out, but his hand stopped halfway and hung there for what seemed like an eternity before dropping, and he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply while scrubbing a hand down his face—something Dean did quite a bit himself. Jensen kept his eyes closed and turned his head just a fraction to the side, almost like he was psyching himself up to open them again.

Now or never, Dean thought, and slipped into the shadows soundlessly. He backed up as far as he could, until he was sure Jensen could no longer see him, and prayed for a miracle. Dean watched as Jensen cracked open first one eye and then the other before releasing a huge breath that just kinda whooshed out of him. He glanced down at the water bottle in his hand and mumbled something about one of the guys slipping something in his drink and disappeared around the corner.

Dean sagged against the wall and tried to catch his breath. Talk about trippy. That was seriously the most jacked up ninety seconds of his life, and that’s saying something. He heard the roar of a crowd nearby and pressed his ear to the wall, eyes growing even wider as a band started playing and Jensen started singing. It was a little rough at first, but pretty soon the guy really let go and was belting out the chorus of “Like A wrecking Ball.” It wasn’t a song Dean knew well, but he’d heard it a time or two in a few backwoods bars. Huh, Dean thought. Guess he got an angel, and Jensen got the voice of one. 

“Dean!”

The older Winchester spun around just in time to see his brother’s face peering around the corner and into the corridor. “Sammy, come here!” Dean hissed back. Why they were whispering, he didn’t know, but whatever. 

Sam’s eyes shot to the direction Dean called from, and he jogged forward until he saw his brother was okay. “What the hell are you doing? We’ve got to get you back home!”

Dean pointed at the wall he still had his ear smashed against and grinned. “Check it out, dude. I’m a freakin’ rockstar.”

Sam furrowed his brows but stepped forward, mirroring Dean’s position. His mouth dropped open a bit, and he huffed. “Too bad you don’t have chords like that. We wouldn’t have to run credit card scams to make a living.”

“I know, right?”

Sam smirked and dragged his brother back towards the bathroom he fell into. The portal had unexpectedly closed behind Ketch, but luckily the guy had been kind enough to help Sam figure out a way to open it again using the remnants of the previous spell. “Come on, man. Let’s get out of here before anyone sees us.”

Dean barked a laugh, his head thrown back. “Boy, do I have a story for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Comments? Thanks for reading!


End file.
